


I Never Knew Daylight (Could be so Violent)

by Talinor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ""Death"" in Space, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Established Relationship, Galra Keith, M/M, Mourning, Offscreen Brainwashing, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 02:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7557295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talinor/pseuds/Talinor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Are you there, God? It's me, Lance. He thought. I know we don't talk much, but listen. I don't care what it is, I'll do it. Just let him be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never Knew Daylight (Could be so Violent)

**Author's Note:**

> I promise this fic started as domestic fluff  
> then it turned into this   
> Title's from Florence and the Machine's song, No Light, No Light

Keith woke to the sensation of soft lips on his, his arms wrapped around a lanky waist. He groaned, opening one eye and barely saw past the bangs in his face.

He was met with the soft gaze of his boyfriend's face a few inches away, still covered in that fancy face wash cream. "Morning, Sleeping Beauty." Lance said with a smile, one hand petting his hair absentmindedly. "How are you?"

"Better now," Reluctantly, he untangled himself from the mess of intertwining limbs to sit up. He missed the intimacy of it, the puffs of breath on his face, the warmth and tranquility. If he only could, he'd stay with the other Paladin in bed all day. Or until the end of time. Whichever came first.

Unfortunately, they couldn't. They had work to do, being defenders of the universe and all. They didn't have time to be lion around.

He just made a mental pun. He blames Lance for corrupting him.

Keith stretched his muscles, looking down at Lance still staring at him. He looked like he was trying not to laugh (and failing miserably). "What?" He asked.

"Your hair," Lance managed to say. "I love you, but it looks so goddamn ridiculous."

"You're the one who was messing with it," Keith reminded him, moving over Lance to get out of bed. "I blame you."

"Yeah, well," he heard Lance say as he headed for the bathroom to somewhat fix up his hair. "What else is new?"

They moved into their usual morning routine, with Lance eventually shuffling out of bed to wash his face. 

( "Hey," Lance said, muffled through the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He pointed at the mouthwash by Keith's side. The bottle of mouthwash he could totally reach. "Get me that?"

Keith stuck his own toothbrush out to speak. "Why? You can get it."

Lance sighed. "Pleash?"

He reached for the bottle and handed it to his boyfriend. "Was that so hard?"

"You're an ashole," he heard Lance mutter. )

They got ready together, working as a team even on the days they didn't have a mission. It had become routine. He'd gotten used to the sight he woke up to every morning.

It was so wonderfully domestic, something he never really imagined himself becoming. Keith was a fighter, fire in his veins and raging in his heart. He was always the lone wolf.

Yet, with Lance, he was a lover. The gentle hum and glow of a campfire's embers. He was a dog, loving and calm until something tried to harm the one he loved.

When Lance talked about home, Keith couldn't relate. He hadn't left his home behind.

He'd found it in the way their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, the way Lance could make him laugh until he cried when no one else could. He found it in the senses Lance filled him with- the faint smell of his cheap cologne he once bathed in still lingering, the way Lance tasted, the music of his voice, the adoration he had to convince Keith he deserved, and the gentleness of his touch.

Any future Keith had, he wanted to spend it like he was now- at Lance's side.

Just as Keith spit into the sink, keeping his hair to the side away from Lance (he'd spit in his hair once, and he really didn't want it to happen again), the Castle's alarms blared. The sound of something hitting the barrier reverberated through the spaceship.

They were under attack.

On instinct, the two dropped what they were holding on the bathroom counter and rushed to put their armor on. Pieces of it were tossed to each other, Keith's helmet flying into his grasp while he threw Lance his bayard. In about a minute, the two Paladins were fully equipped and ready to face whoever was challenging them.

"Everyone!" Allura's voice sounded from the intercom. "This is not a drill! Get to your lions immediately and prepare for battle!"

"Princess," Coran's voice was quieter, more worried. "Our shields are at 60 percent capacity. They're tearing through our defenses!"

"Coran," she said as another shot shook the ship. "The intercom's still on! Convert all non-essential power to the shields."

A second later, the lights shut off. He could barely see, the faint glow of their armor the only light source.

They exchanged a look, worry worming into Keith. One shot lowered their defenses that much, how long would it take for their attackers to tear through them?

As if he could read his thoughts, Lance put a hand on his shoulder. "Keith," he said. "Babe, we're gonna be okay. We'll whoop their asses. It's what we do, remember?"

Keith nodded. "You're right," and yet, something still made him uneasy about this. But he didn't need Lance to know that. Raising his helmet a little, he gave his boyfriend a quick kiss. "Love you."

Lance smiled that stupid, confident smile. "Love you too."

With that, the two raced in opposite directions towards their lion's hangars.

"Shiro here," he heard as he turned his comm on. "I've gotten to my lion."

"Same here," came Pidge's voice.

"Just got in," Hunk reported. "Lance? Keith? What about you guys?"

A bad rumbling caught him off guard, making him stumble a bit. "I'm heading into the hangar now." It was good he knew the way by heart, because without the instincts directing him, he'd have no idea where he'd be.

"Wow," Lance piped up. "For once, I'm actually not the last one. You need to step up your game, mullet-man."

"I'll remember that," He told him. "You'll regret saying it later."

"That a promise?"

"You know it."

"Guys," Pidge cut in. "You can flirt all you want later. The Castle's shields are flickering. One more blast, and it'll be out."

"Keith," Shiro said. "How far are you? We're trying to distract the ships, but we can't keep it up forever."

He was close. He could sense his lion nearby, calling to him.

The only problem was navigating through the tunnel to the actual hangar. It was longer than he remembered.

"Keith, are you in the hangar tunnel?" Lance's worried voice in his ear only goaded him on.

"Yeah, why?" He asked.

"The big one's charging a shot," Hunk said. "And I think it's aiming for you."

"We need to get it off him!" Lance cried. "Hunk, help me."

Keith only had enough time to fully close his helmet's visor before a yellow beam of light tore through the hall, exposing him to the vacuum of space. The stars, as usual, were a beautiful sight.

They're less so when you're being sucked into them.

He tried to reach for something, anything to keep him in the hangar. Maybe a rail he could inch along until he got to his lion. As long as it worked, he didn't really care.

Unfortunately, life was not that kind to him. He was caught in the current, desperate for a rock or some other lifeline. Yet there was nothing.

His back hit the ragged edge of the burnt-open wall on the way out, and that's when he knew he was done for. He twisted his body in the emptiness, surrounded by nothing but the cold void. As he got further away, he could start to see the mystery ships and the lions fighting against them.

There was a swell of pride in his chest at seeing the blue lion desperately clawing at the largest ship's cannon. He'd tried -was trying, he corrected himself- to save him.

If only they knew they'd gotten blindsided by a smaller cruiser.

He gasped for breath, only to find there was none. His body naturally panicked, his breath quickening in hope for some fresh air to magically manifest in his constricting lungs.

He was dying and he was scared, thrashing and twisting and gasping for precious oxygen like a helpless animal suffocating to death. He didn't want to die. Not here, not now, when he actually had something to live for.

It was cold, so cold. It seeped into his bones, freezing him from the inside out.

Exhaustion settled in quickly, his moving growing sluggish. It was just like the instructor at the Garrison had described death in space once. His brain was shutting down. He barely acknowledged the screaming in his comm. He was tired of fighting. It was a fight he was destined to lose, gasping for breath at the bottom of the ocean with weights tied to your ankles.

The last thing he felt was a warm tingling in his entire body, his limp frame being pulled by something. When he cracked an eye open, all he saw was a gold light.

Then a cold, uncaring blackness.

-

Keith's comm had gone dead.

The buzzing static was only getting Lance more and more worried every second he heard it. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to hear Keith's voice, even for a second. Just a split second so the knot twisting in his stomach would loosen or untangle.

He prayed to any divine being who'd listen that he'd see the red lion burst through the hangar doors any second now. The longer nothing happened, the more desperate he got.

 _Are you there, God? It's me, Lance._ He thought. _I know we don't talk much, but listen. I don't care what it is, I'll do it. Just let him be okay._

_Let him be alive so when this attack is over, I'll run up and hug him and tell him how much he'd worried me like a lovable stupid asshole._

_Just let me hold him again._

_Please._

"Lance," he barely acknowledged Shiro's voice. "Lance, stop! They're leaving."

That snapped him out of it. "What?!" He said incredulously. "You can't seriously be telling me we're just gonna let them go! They might have Keith! He might be-"

"I know!" Shiro snapped. He never snapped. Reluctantly, Blue moved off the hull of the ship. Lance watched with a heavy heart as it pulled away with it's other damaged friends.

Seeing them leave only made what possibly happened to Keith more real. Either they had him on their creepy alien ships, or judging by the giant hole in the hangar hallway, his corpse was floating around in space. Neither of those sounded good.

"I need to find him," he thought out loud.

"Lance," Pidge spoke up. "I don't think that's a good-"

"If he's..." He trailed off. Thinking it was one thing. Saying the word, letting it hang in the air, only made it concrete. He wouldn't be able to take it back once it was out. "...you know, I need to find him. To know for sure. Please."

Radio silence hung between the four Paladins, and he didn't need to be in Voltron to know what they were probably thinking. They were thinking of a way to let him down easy. Tell him as politely as possible that it was pointless.

And a part of him knew they were right. Seeing Keith's body would break him, and he didn't know if he could pick up the pieces afterward.

"We could spare a little time," Hunk was the first to speak up. "What do you guys think?"

"I'll... get back to Allura." Pidge said. "She needs to know. Shiro?"

"See you guys back at the Castle," Shiro's voice was quiet. "Don't stay out too long, okay?"

Lance nodded. "Got it."

-

They didn't find Keith's body. They did, however, find his bayard floating around a few feet away from the hole in the hangar hall. That was worse, in a way.

If they hadn't found anything, he could convince himself that somehow Keith was fine. That his boyfriend found some way to hijack the strange ships that attacked them and was sending them to bomb a Galra battalion or something like that. Keith would come back a couple days later with a ship he stole, and Lance would rush to him and give him a long tirade about how he was reckless and how he worried him half to death and never let him go for about 10 minutes.

But even so, Keith would never part with his bayard.

Holding it in his hands like it was a fragile thing, he wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and yell and curse the universe for this injustice. He wanted to shout until his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse.

He wanted to do all of these things, and yet he did nothing. Just stared down at the fragment of Keith they found and let Blue navigate them both back home.

It felt... wrong, somehow, to hold it. It didn't belong in Lance's hands. It belonged to the Red Paladin who (once) wielded it like the deadly weapon it was. Keith never held it like a delicate glass, like one wrong move would add its shattered fragments to the crumbling remains of Lance's heart.

But Keith was gone.

With only Blue's subtle humming to accompany him, he allowed the tears blurring his vision to stream along down his cheeks.

-

There was a gentle rapping on his door frame. Lance cracked one eye open to see a concerned Shiro, poking his head in.

"What is it?" He grumbled. He wasn't much in the mood to talk.

"Can I...come in?" Shiro asked. Lance only grunted in response. Any conversation Shiro wanted was going to be extremely one-sided.

He felt the mattress shift under new weight by his legs, but he didn't bother to look at Shiro's face. He didn't need or want pity right now. Right now, he just wanted to bury himself in the covers and wake up from this terrible dream.

If he could, he'd start this whole hellish day over again. Somehow he'd make sure Keith made it to his lion. But he couldn't reset. He just had to live with with what happened.

Eventually.

"Lance, I'm..." Shiro sighed. "I'm sorry for what happened earlier. You're upset, I know, and I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I'm not mad about that," Lance confessed. "I'm not even mad at you." If anyone, he was mad at himself. If he'd been faster, or more perceptive, Keith would be the one sitting at the edge of the bed with him. He wouldn't be moping like he was now.

"Lance, you know none of that was your fault."

He moved his face from the pillow to look at Shiro. "Well, who am I supposed to blame? Keith? Blame won't do anything for him."

"It won't do anything for you, either." He had that strict, all-business Dad face on. He really hated that expression. "You don't need to place blame on anyone but our attackers. Nothing that happened was your fault."

He hated to admit it, but Shiro was right.

Lance mustered a half-hearted smile. "Thanks," he managed to say.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked quietly.

Lance shook his head. "Just not in the mood to talk right now."

"I understand," Shiro put a hand on his shoulder. "We don't need to talk."

And they didn't. It was enough to know someone was there for him while he tried to surround himself in the sheets.

They still smelled like Keith, the pillowcases faintly carrying the scent of Keith's conditioner. It always made his stupid mullet soft.

He already missed running his fingers through it.

-

Lance wasn't used to sleeping alone.

Ever since he was a kid, he always shared his room with at least one of his siblings. Sometimes when they knew mama didn't want to be disturbed, they went to him after a bad dream. They knew their big brother would scare off any monsters that tried to haunt them.

Even at the Garrison, he had a roommate. They weren't as close, but some nights when he missed home, he'd listen to the steady breathing. It wasn't the same, but it helped to know that someone was there with him. He hated being alone.

Which is why he slept with headphones on the first few weeks in the Castle. It was too embarrassing to admit that he needed some kind of assurance he wasn't alone in a sterile room on a strange alien ship God-only-knows how far from his home on Earth. Every time he tried sleeping without them, his skin would start to crawl. His heart would beat faster for no reason.

With Keith sharing a room with him, he didn't need the headphones.

At first, it had just been a one-night thing. Until it kept happening. Suddenly a 'one-night thing' turned into a nightly thing. Lance would open the door, and Keith would be standing there.

Eventually Keith just moved his few belongings to Lance's room, and neither questioned it. Instead of his room, it slowly became theirs.

His bed became theirs, and he got lucky enough to wake up every morning to arms around him. He was lucky enough to depend on seeing the lovely sight of Keith sleeping, peaceful and unburdened for once.

Only now was he regretting that dependence. He couldn't sleep, tossing and turning in his side of the bed.

He didn't want to touch Keith's side in fear that his scent would fade. He didn't touch anything that belonged to Keith. It felt disrespectful to.

When he could sleep, Keith was always there. Sometimes it was a memory; Keith's laughter as Lance was arguing with Pidge about something stupid at 1 am, the glow of the Galaxy map illuminating his face when he went to check on a homesick Lance.

Other times, it sounded like Keith was trying to speak to him. But it always sounded far away, like they were at two different ends of a crowded tunnel. He couldn't make out the words, no matter how he tried. He wished he could.

Phantom touches haunted his skin, fooling him into thinking he'd open his eyes to see Keith cuddled up to him. Like the past week was nothing but a terrible nightmare he finally woke up from.

At least, it felt like a week. He wasn't too sure anymore.

Finally, one night, he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't be alone.

Swallowing his pride, Lance knocked at Hunk's door. He only hoped he wasn't already sleeping.

A moment later, the door slid open with a soft mechanical whirr. Hunk rubbed at his eyes, then looked at Lance with surprise. "Lance," he said, taking a second to pause and yawn. "What're you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep." He told him. "I was wondering if... maybe-" He sighed in frustration. He felt like a child for even thinking about asking. "...Could I sleep here tonight?"

"Sure." Hunk shrugged. "Come on in." He stepped to the side, showing Lance his room. "Sorry it's a bit of a mess."

There were only two shirts on the floor and a plate on his table. In his house, that wouldn't even be close to the definition of 'messy'. But he was still surprised that Hunk just automatically said yes, no judgement attached, no weird looks. That made him feel slightly better.

He stepped in hesitantly, like Hunk would suddenly change his mind and kick him out. He knew that wouldn't happen, but his mind wasn't thinking logically. "Thanks," he said, looking back at his friend. "It means a lot to me."

"Hey," Hunk closed the door. "It's no problem."

The dreams still came, but he slept easier that night.

-

The lights woke him up. They were fluorescent white, blinding and bright. Too bright. It matched the clean sterility of the room, reflecting the lights too well.

It made his head hurt to look. He wanted to return to the comforting blackness. Nothing hurt there. It was familiar, unlike the strange beeping technology that hurt his sensitive ears.

He noticed that the beeps were getting a little bit faster, a steady ringing rhythm in his heavy head.

"Oh no," he barely heard the raspy voice speak. "I think he's waking up."

"He's not ready yet," he tried to look at the being who was speaking, but all he saw were blurs of color. The taller one mainly consisted of purple and fuschia, while the shorter one on the other side of the surface he was lying on was brown and yellow. "Give him the sedative."

The purple fluffy-looking one stepped closer, allowing him to see them better. Their pure yellow eyes looked down upon him, like they were scanning him for all his worth. They looked... familiar, somehow. But he couldn't put his finger on why. "Remain calm, Kholek." They instructed him calmly. The beeping was getting faster. "Do not try to move."

Kholek? Was that his name? It didn't sound right.

The brown, insect-like one chittered something nervously in a tongue his translator didn't understand. "Heart rate increasing, blood pressure elevating, his brain activity is off the charts." The purple one looked to them with what seemed like irritation. "It-It's not working!"

"Another dose, Xeta."

"But-"

"Now!" They snapped, and he felt ice climb into his veins. The pain was numbing. His vision was blurring.

"Stats are returning to normal range, ma'am." He barely heard. He was fading back into the darkness.

It felt like returning to an old friend.

-

"Shiro," Lance heard Allura speak in the other room before he even turned the corner of the hallway. "I know it's been hard on Lance, but that doesn't change the fact that Keith is gone. We're going to need to find another pilot for the Red Lion."

"Princess, we've been through this," Shiro chided. Lance's stomach churned. How many times had they talked about this since Keith left? "He's been making progress, but he needs more time to mourn and move on."

It had been... a couple weeks? A couple months? Time blended together nowadays. He'd get this strange feeling like he'd done something before, even when he knew he hadn't. His life became a boring, lonely routine like a bland movie stuck on permanent loop. He alienated himself, even when he knew he shouldn't. The others just wanted to help him. He knew that, but he still did it.

He hated it, but couldn't stop doing it.

"It's been three months!" Allura said. "How long do you think Zarkon's going to wait before he strikes again? If we don't find someone to pilot the Red Lion, we might not survive the next one."

He didn't stay long enough to hear Shiro's reply. He felt sick to his stomach.

Lance rushed through the halls, heading straight to his room. On the entire ship, that was his one refuge. He felt safe there, surrounded by the remnants of Keith's memory. If the others wanted to find him, they learned he was probably in there.

He was so focused on getting to his room, he didn't notice Pidge until he ran smack dab into them. It wasn't enough to knock either of them down, but it did stun him.

"Lance," Pidge said, looking up at him with concern. "Are you okay? You look kinda upset."

He nodded. "I'm okay," he said. "It's just something stupid."

"If I know anything about you, that means it's something that legitimately upsets you." Pidge told him, adjusting their glasses. "What is it?"

He's not exactly sure how he worded it, but he told them about what he overheard. About what Allura had said. At the mention of a new Red Paladin, he saw Pidge's face fall.

"-and I know she's right, but I..." Lance trailed off. "I'm not ready to let go yet. Pathetic, right?" He really was.

He couldn't even get himself to admit Keith was... That word. The permanent one that meant he wouldn't come back, the word that never left his mind. He should admit it, it was the truth. But he couldn't. Even thinking about saying it made him feel like he was going to barf.

"Lance," Their voice was quiet. "Can I tell you something about my dad?"

After a moment, he nodded. Pidge didn't talk about personal stuff much, so this had to be something that would help him feel better.

"When I was little," they started. "My dad would read to me every night." What did this have to do with him? "He'd let me sit on his lap so I could look at the pictures, but he'd never turn the page until I put my hand on his and 'helped' him turn it. That was something I always loved about him," They looked right at him before saying their next words. "He made every step of the way my choice. Know what I'm trying to say?"

Lance shook his head. Pidge sighed.

"What I'm trying to say is," they started. "This is your story. It will have to move along eventually, but you decide when you're ready for that. If someone tries to hurry you before you're ready to, look them in the eye and say, 'My choice," they poked at his chest with one finger. "'Not yours.'"

He mulled over their words. That... made sense. It actually made him feel better, somewhat. The heaviness in his heart was still there, but the burden lessened. Bending down a little, he hugged Pidge. "Thank you," he said.

"No problem." Pidge told him. He felt their hands on his back, patting him lightly. "Happy I could help."

-

Lance woke up with the words on his lips. He had to face the music; he had to turn the page in the storybook of his life. He was ready to admit it.

Getting out of bed, he shuffled to the bathroom. He turned on the sink, splashing the cold water onto his face. It was freezing. Just what he needed.

Lance looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, and it looked like his eyebags had eyebags. He looked as tired as he felt. But the reflection Lance looked determined, like someone who wanted to live so much they'd crawl through miles of jungle with just a stick. And he finally saw the end of it, leading back into civilization.

"Keith is dead," he muttered, then dared to say it louder. He couldn't take it back now. The word was finally free after three months of captivity. "Keith is dead. I loved him, still do, but I need to let him go."

It was the cold, harsh truth.

Saying it didn't make him feel much better, but he knew it was a gigantic step for him.

-

This was his first mission since Keith died. He'd forgotten how it felt to sit at Blue's helm. He'd missed the freedom of soaring through the clouds, looking down at the tiny alien towns like they were dollhouses.

For the first time in a long while, he felt... alive. Maybe part of it was from Blue after being cooped up in the hangar for so long, but he couldn't help but smile at the light feeling.

"Guys," Shiro's voice in his ear interrupted the moment he was having. "We're getting close to the candidate." Right. They were looking for a replacement paladin. The familiar nausea settled over him at the thought.

They had to replace Keith, he knew that. Without a red paladin, they couldn't form Voltron. Without Voltron, they stood no chance against Zarkon. This was necessary for the team.

Still didn't help him feel better about it.

Whoever the Lions had decided was the best (and closest, considering the Castle had been in this desert planet's orbit when they picked up the signal from the Red Lion) fit was somewhere down there, mixed into the massive crowd of people hustling around the strangely-shaped buildings. Today, Red would finally get a new pilot. After three months of staying dormant, she'd finally be free and flying again.

There'd be someone new at her helm. Lance only hoped they wouldn't have a stupid, soft mullet.

"Question," he finally spoke up. "How are we gonna touch down in our lions without freaking anyone out?"

"Easy," Pidge said. "We don't all touch down."

"What?"

"We don't need four lions to pick one person up," they explained. "One of our lions could stay with us while the other three go back to the Castle after dropping us off. We'll probably still freak people out, but just one giant robot cat is less scary than four of them."

"Good idea," Shiro said. "But which one should stay behind?"

"Blue could," Lance volunteered. "I don't think she's ready to fly back to the hangars yet." If the link between them was saying anything, it was that she didn't want to be cooped up again so soon. He could relate.

"You ready for this, man?" Hunk asked.

"For what? Meeting the new teammate?" Was he really ready to meet the person who'd replace his boyfriend? Was he ready to commit to seeing them every day, knowing they would sit where Keith once commandeered Red? "Of course I am! Couldn't be more ready if I tried."

Radio silence hung in the air heavily, settling on his shoulders. He was fine with this. A-okay, he's never been better.

Maybe if he said it enough, he'd convince himself it was true.

"O-kay," Pidge was the one to finally speak up. They didn't sound convinced. "Set down over by the edge of the town. We'll meet with you there."

Blue set there herself, knowing what she had to do. While her claws settled on the dusty and barren ground, Lance looked nervously at the small box at the corner of his visor.

PROXIMITY: 34 FEET.

It was now or never.

Blue moved her head down, opening her maw to let him out. The others were waiting for him. Their lions were already flying off back to the Castle, the discussion topic on many of the locals' minds at the moment. Then their eyes turned to the Paladins.

He couldn't really blame them. It'd be pretty weird to look up at the sky one day to find a bunch of robotic flying lions, or the strange beings piloting them.

PROXIMITY: 33 FEET.

Blue sat down, moving her head back up after he stepped out of her. With a heavy heart, he patted at her chassis. "Good girl," he said. "We'll be back soon." There was no facial cue to show she understood, but he knew she did. She's smart.

He looked around at the busy crowd, ignoring the strange looks. Someone 32 feet from them was going to be the new Red Paladin. Red had decided it herself. He wasn't expecting a big sign saying 'New Paladin Here!', but that would make things easier.

They moved through the crowd, muttering apologies to the poor confused strangers they bumped into. Lance's heart only kept beating faster the closer they got. They were in one of the town's markets, local and non-local merchants staring at them as they passed.

His visor highlighted a cloaked stranger buying what looked like a block of dried tofu from one of the stalls. Their figure was highlighted in red- his visor blinked twice to show it was a match. This was it.

Lance looked back at the others, and gestured to the figure. They looked to where he was pointing, and he could see the red outline on their helmets' visors. Hunk flashed him a thumbs up. Pidge moved through the crowd to get to his side, their smaller size allowing them to get out quicker than the other two Paladins. Shiro looked to him with concern.

"You okay?" He asked, looking between Lance and their future teammate.

"I'm fine." Lance lied, nodding his head. "Let's just get this over with, okay? This place is too crowded for me."

Shiro gave him his signature suspicious look, but didn't say anything else.

Lance headed to the stranger, waving one arm to them. "Hey!" Judging from the way they tensed up, they heard him. "You, in the brown cloak! We need to-"

The stranger turned around, and his heart stopped. Under the hood was the face of a Galran helmet. That couldn't be right. There was no way, in any universe, that a Galra could be a Paladin.

"Paladins of Voltron," their deep voice had to be synthesized. "What a surprise." They reached into their cloak, and pulled out a sleek dark purple pistol, laced with a yellow glow. "I've been looking forward to this."

The soldier fired a yellow beam of energy into the air, and locals rushed to leave the square. None of them wanted to be caught in the crossfire between the lone Galra and the four armored humans firing up their bayards.

When the dust clouds settled, the market was empty. Except for them and the few merchants cowering behind their stalls.

Hunk was the first to fire his bayard, and the soldier barely had time to move out of the way. Lance looked to Shiro, shouldering his own bayard. "What do we do?"

"If this is really the new Paladin," the Galra soldier tipped over one of the stalls as cover, a colorful array of fruits spilling to the dirt. The merchant that had been hiding behind it shrieked and ran for the nearest building to avoid Hunk's bullets. "We can't kill them. But something tells me they're not gonna come quietly."

The Galra poked their head out of cover, firing a bright yellow beam aimed at Shiro. "You're correct, Takashi." Shiro tensed up at the name, and Pidge had to jump in front of him so their shield would deflect the blast. The shield fizzled out with a burst of electricity, making his hairs stand on end. Pidge winced and tried to bring up their shield again.

It shone weakly for a few seconds, then disappeared. That wasn't good.

If every blast could fizzle each of their shields like that, they could only take three more blasts. So long range probably wasn't gonna work for long.

They had to move closer, overwhelm the soldier. It was four against one. How hard could it be?

The Galra poked up for a moment, and Lance fired. They ducked their head back down to avoid the bullets. He looked to Shiro and Pidge, and tilted his head towards where the possible Paladin was in cover. They seemed to get it.

While the two moved toward the overturned stall, Hunk and Lance kept their attacker's head ducked down. If they couldn't see where the Paladins were, they couldn't line up another shot. He was a tactical genius.

As if whatever merciless divine being up there heard his thoughts, that's when things started going to shit. Like that was supposed to teach him a lesson on being egotistical or something.

Somehow, the soldier managed to avoid both the bullets fired at them and their two close range attackers. They moved like water: every movement fluid and precise.

If he wasn't so pissed at their uncanny ability to know what they were going to do before they did it, he'd be in awe. Seriously, they moved flawlessly. When Lance tried to aim at their head, they ducked down and swept a leg through Shiro's. When Lance's bullets were in the way of where they wanted to go to avoid Pidge's bayard, they fired a shot at Lance. He panicked and pulled up his shield. The shock made his arm ache.

The battle started to twist and turn into the soldier's favor. Lance's hurting arm put his aim off, giving them a bit of breathing room to avoid Pidge and Shiro. Hunk's shield went next, and he could barely keep his heavy bayard upright. They were actually losing to someone in a common Galra soldier's armor. After beating countless masses of Galra at once, that fact was just insulting.

The soldier kicked Pidge square in the ribs, and they fell to their knees wincing in pain. Fortunately, that gave Shiro an opportunity. The even better part was that he took it. His glowing prosthetic hand cut through the helmet like a hot knife through butter. The soldier peeled off the now-useless helmet to reveal his face.

Lance's heart stopped at seeing that familiar face. It was a face he hadn't seen in three months, yet it was a face he remembered as if he saw it just yesterday. Seeing it again just made all his feelings rush back to the surface. It made his legs feel too weak for standing.

Because even his pure yellow eyes, even with the large ears with tufts of fur sticking out at the edges, he knew it was Keith. 

Even though it was dark purple now, he'd still recognize that stupid mullet anywhere.

Unfortunately, Keith took Shiro's shock as an opportunity to strike. Sweeping one leg through Shiro's, he knocked the stunned Paladin onto his back. Hunk reluctantly fired a few rounds at him to avert his attention.

Fortunately and unfortunately for him, it worked.

Keith grabbed a slab of metal from the nearest stall, using it as a shield against the bullets. He gained distance easily without having to worry about getting shot.

Lance wanted to move, to help somehow, but he couldn't. It felt like his nerves were locked in place. He could barely breathe, chest constricted as he watched his Galra boyfriend knock Hunk's bayard aside. A million thoughts raced through his head, most of them in the form of frantic and confused questions.

Keith was alive? Where had he been for the last three months? What happened to him?

Before he knew it, he was knocked to the dirt. All the air left his lungs at the sight above him. Keith looked down upon him unemotionally, like he couldn't care less about the crisis Lance was going through. Those eyes that sparkled when he laughed now looked at him as though Lance was a speck of dirt.

"Keith," he breathed out when Keith aimed the Galra gun at him. "Keith, don't you remember me? Don't you know who I am?"

"You're Lance," Keith said. There wasn't any recognition in his voice, no emotion behind his boyfriend's name. "Pilot and Paladin of the Blue Lion of Voltron. And the second new Paladin to die."

What did the Galra do to him?

Before he could fire and make Lance's face a smudge on the ground, Keith tensed. His body moved erratically as electricity laced through his metal-clad body. After a moment, it stopped, and Keith's body went limp.

And of course, Keith had to land on him. Because life apparently hated him.

Holding Keith's unconscious body in his arms, Lance sat up. He saw Pidge flash him a small smile, holding their retracting bayard.

-

He didn't understand why he was still alive. Kholek failed his mission, and now he had his legs braced to a chair in the Paladins' headquarters.

They intended to torture information out of him, he knew that already. So why hadn't they started doing so already? Every time a Paladin came into the small white room, it was just to feed him. The green goo they fed him didn't taste bad (it tasted... strangely familiar), and he would've known if it was drugged in some way.

His captors were nothing but kind to him. Something was up. If Lord Zarkon hadn't assured him how much they valued life, he'd think they were planning to kill him.

His stomach sunk at remembering the Emperor. It would be better if they'd killed him. He failed his mission, wasn't truly prepared to face the Paladins.

He was a failure, keeping him alive was just a waste of resources. Why couldn't they see that? What did they want from him? Information? He'd die before he said anything about the Galra empire. Entertainment? They weren't making him do anything.

Unless it was entertainment enough to look at the chained beast and laugh. That was probably it.

Then why did they act so strangely around him? When coming in to feed him, almost every Paladin avoided looking at him. Takashi Shirogane was always the quickest one out of the room.

But, out of all the Paladins, Lance acted the strangest. The Blue Paladin would sit down and study Kholek's every feature with a strange expression. It was wistful, like he wanted to reach out and touch him. He called Kholek 'Keith', the deceased Red Paladin.

He preferred avoidance, honestly.

Kholek snapped back to reality when he heard footsteps coming down the hall outside. Considering the long and light gait, he could tell which Paladin was headed his way.

Lance.

The light door slid open with ease, revealing the Blue Paladin... without a food tray in his hands. Instead, he held the red bayard like it was a divine and delicate object. Like it would be a crime to drop it.

Kholek raised an eyebrow at him. Lance just smiled.

"Why are you here?" Kholek finally asked.

"I've got a deal for you, Keith." He said. "Wanna hear it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really," Lance told him with a shake of his head. "Cause it's something we all need to know."

This was it. The kind act was going to drop. "If you think I'm going to tell you anything about the Galra-"

"It's not about the Galra." Lance cut him off. "It's about Voltron."

"Something pertaining to the deceased Red Paladin you confuse me with, I'm guessing?"

That struck a nerve. Lance set the bayard on the silver table in front of them. "Yes," his voice was quieter. "It is. You're the Red Paladin, I know it."

This was getting to sound interesting. "And what if I'm not, pray tell?" He scanned the human's face for a trace of doubt, a flicker of a flaw.

There was none.

"If you can't activate your bayard," he said. "Then you can go free. Hell, you can take the Red Lion with you! That's how confident I am."

That... was a surprise. But bringing a Lion to Zarkon would prove he'd been successful. He wouldn't be a failure after all. 

"What happens if it does?" Kholek asked.

"Then you have to stay," Lance said nonchalantly. "As a Paladin of Voltron. A teammate. Sound fair?"

It sounded too good to be true. But if he agreed, and he activated the bayard, he could never go back to Zarkon. He'd be a rogue soldier, a betrayer of the Empire.

But if he didn't he'd bring one of the best spoils of the millennia. Did he want to take that risk?

 _Yes,_ his instinct told him. _This is the right path._

He nodded, and reached for the bayard.

It felt... strangely right in his hands, like it was made for his grasp. Like it was a weapon he was born to wield. With a flash of light, the bayard grew only slightly heavier in his hand.

A moment later, he saw the sword in his grasp. He'd activated it.

In shock, he looked over to Lance. The human had the smuggest knowing grin he'd ever seen, yet it felt like he'd seen it before. Multiple times.

Strange.

-

Kholek couldn't see anything. He knew he was in the training deck; the Princess hadn't moved him since she slipped a smooth piece of fabric over his eyes. He knew the other Paladins were in there with him. He just couldn't see where they were.

"Princess," he said. "What are you doing?"

"Preparing a training exercise," the Altean told him, tightening the fabric around his eyes. "We need to know how acute Galra senses are. Thus, the blindfold."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"For this training exercise," she explained. "You will turn around and determine which Paladin is which based on hearing and smell alone." He felt her hands touch his shoulders. "Believe you can do it?"

He nodded, and she turned him around. After a couple steps forward, she let go. He was presumably in front of the first Paladin in line.

He smelled finely-cooked foods, making his stomach growl with want. It didn't take long to know who this was. Kholek pointed at the Yellow Paladin in front of him. "This is Hunk," he said.

"Correct!" He heard the Princess say. "Move two steps to your right to the next Paladin."

Kholek did as he was told, and heard a hitch of breath from the next Paladin in line. Shiro was still uncomfortable around him, due to his... known history with the Galra. He also smelled of that strange oil he used to keep his prosthetic moving efficiently. "Shiro."

"Correct again," she said. "Once more, Kei- Kholek."

He did so again, and felt his chest constrict at the scent. It smelled of dirt caked on hands, traces of sea salt tracing his skin. He smelled cheap space cologne he vaguely recognized.

He smelled of home.

A flood of feelings overwhelmed him, urging him to get closer to the source. He wanted desperately at wrap himself up in the scent, to have it surround him forever.

He nuzzled at the Paladin's neck, where the smell was strongest. Vague blurry memories played in his mind. Memories that weren't Kholek's, but they felt so real. He remembered soft, caring lips on his every morning. He remembered the taste of Lance's mouth, minty fresh after he brushed his teeth.

They were Keith's memories. He heard the name said with adoration many times, yet it felt as though those words were directed at him.

Keith felt hands in his hair, holding him close. He felt a drop of water fall from Lance's chin to Keith's face. He was crying.

He felt hands tug at his blindfold, and it fell down to his neck. He reluctantly separated himself from Lance's neck to look at his face. He never thought he could feel so light and airy yet heavy at the same time, but he did looking at his boyfriend's bleary face.

"I missed you," Lance told him, and Keith's heart sank.

"I might not be the Keith you remember," he blurted out. "These months as Kholek changed him." He felt a lump grow in his throat. "I don't wanna disappoint you."

"Kholek, Keith, whatever you're called, you're still you." Lance cupped his face with one hand, thumb tracing his ears lightly. "Nothing could change how I feel about you."

"Even the whole 'being a Galra' thing?"

"Galra or not, you still have your stupid soft mullet." Lance gave him that familiar smile. He'd missed it.

"Shut up," Keith said. "You know you missed it."

"More than you know, corazón." Lance was leaning closer, and he couldn't help but meet him halfway.

It felt like returning home after years of not seeing it, the arms around his waist making him feel more secure than he had in months. He wanted to stay there forever, pressed to Lance like they were one person.

After months of being lost, it felt like they were both finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> would it surprise anyone if I said I listened to stucky playlists like 70% of the time I was writing this 
> 
> my tumblr: squishy--squish


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